Love Has No Boundaries
by Kiku-chan3322
Summary: Jesse, the hoodlum, the menace to society, the trash. Jaden, the rich one, the one who has it easy. Seperated by two different worlds, Jaden and Jesse try and conquer the borderline of classes to be with each other forever. Inspired by "The Outsiders"
1. Prologue

**Hayy!! Okay! New Story! Yes, I know I already have one out and I usually hate making another story when I have one not even close to done but I needed to make this. So, here's where I got this idea. Okay, in my L.A class we're reading The Outsiders. And I'm like "I could use this!" So I did, so make a Spiritshipping love story between Jesse and Jaden's love for each other to conquer the bordline between classes to be with each other!! Awesome, right? Well Review and tell me your opinion to that. So this is the Prologue! tell me what you think and if yal like it, i'll contiune it! Get it? got it? Sweet!**

**Alrighty! You ready for a new story?!**

**Crowd: Yeah!**

**Can't hear you!**

**Crowd: YEAH!!**

**Fuck yeah! Enjoy the story!!**

X-X-X-X-X

All my life I've heard I was raised "on the wrong side of the tracks". I grew up in what people call in my area _the hood._ Now, I don't know about you, but when I think of the word _hood _I think of gangsters and crack houses, but it's not like that over here. People who actually live on this side of town call it home. That's what I call it. It ain't bad down here. But my perspective of bad and your perspective of bad are probably two totally different things.

Example, a bad situation you would usually face everyday is you're late for the bus or you get detention. Maybe your girlfriend or boyfriend dumped you. Yeah, that's bad. Me, a bad situation is being jumped, or getting shot at, losing my cigarettes, having a hangover before I have to go to school, which I am failing. It's things we face everyday that make us see things different.

That's where I come to explain the one key factor in all of this. In my town, there is a border line. A border line to separate classes. It's an easy system. There is the upper-class, what we call The Rich Rummies and then there is the lower-class, the "hoodlums". I am a hoodlum and couldn't be prouder. Hoodlums have something that the rummies don't. We have street smarts. How to survive in the world. We know how to take care of ourselves without the help of our mommies and daddies. Half of our mommies and daddies either hate us, hit us, or they're dead. Mine are the third, dead. Died a few years ago. But, I ain't getting into that.

I live with my four siblings. Three brothers and one sister. John, twenty-two, and is the parent of the house after mom and dad died. Then comes Chris, who is eighteen and works at a gas station with no high school education and always needing someone to bail him out of jail. Next is me, Jesse, seventeen, Senior in high school, the goof-ball of the family. Jennifer, fifteen, runs around with her eighteen-year-old boyfriend instead of focusing on her school work and making something out of herself. Lastly, there is Michael, he's thirteen and is the brains of the family. He's going to be the one going to college and getting out of this town, going places, being a good person

We may not be the perfect American family, but we stick together. People might call us dysfunctional, out of control, a menace to society (as most of us _hoodlums _are labeled) but we're family. We're all we've got.

Those rummies can call us all of those nasty words, but we know one thing; we can kick their asses in a fight. Those rich, snobby, little punks with their designer clothing and nice cars don't stand a chance against us in a brawl. That's what makes us have the upper hand. They can say all those things about us at school or at the mall but when you cross into our territory, hoodlum territory, you better look out. We will get our revenge. Beat your face in, key your car, whatever we can do to you, we will.

I had grown up learning to hate the upper-classmen and that's how it was gonna stay. They judge us, piss on us and laugh, just because we have it rough.

But, there was one rummy, no, _boy _I met that wasn't like the rest. One of us, so to say. He didn't call us names. He thought of us as friends, companions. He didn't care if we were different or were tougher, or meaner than the crowd he hung out with. He thought we were apart of his family almost.

He was a weird kid. Not weird as in the nerdy kind of weird, but in the sense that he wasn't afraid of us or smug. He was something. He made everything…right. Made me see life differently. But, I also dragged him down, made him see things he should never see. Fights, arguments to the point a gun was staring you in the face, my ugly side, how rough it was down here in the hood, saw me bloody, beaten to a pulp.

But, through all of that I knew one thing. That I cared about him deeply. How I…loved him. _Him. _That little fact caused chaos between my friends and family. The awkwardness, how uncomfortable it was for them to accept.

It didn't matter though. I loved him. I loved him enough let him venture into my world and actually venture into his. I loved him enough, that I would kill anyone who harmed him. All the smart remarks and judgments my people would make about him I would pull my switchblade out in a heartbeat. Even if they were my friends.

One thing just stood in our way. One tiny thing that made all the difference was I was trash and he was a goodie-goodie, a rummy, superior over me because of his wealth.

We just weren't right for each other and we never knew if we would make it.

X-X-X-X-X

Kikuchan: Ha! I like it!

Jesse: Yeah, for a prologue that was some good shit!

Kikuchan: Mmmhmm…wait…what da fuck?! Where's Jaden?! Jaden always does the end of chapter comments with me!

Jesse: Well since you're writing in my point of view I took his place.

Kikuchan: ohhh! Okay! Pleasure working with you Jesse!

Jesse: Pleasure? No. Misery? Yes!

Kikuchan: oh GET OUT! Get out! Ur mean to me you can get out!

Jesse: Kidding, Kayy, Kidding!

Kikuchan: I didn't sense the sarcasm!! Urgh!! Anyway! _**PLEASE REVIEW!! **_Tell me if I should continue this story or not!


	2. Life of a Hood

**Dammmnnnn! I updated like superly doper fast! Like a ninja! Maybe cuz I'm like really into this story! Like I have to write it or I'm gonna go CRAZZAAA!! Anyway, I don't have much to say here expect thank you to all of you who reviewed. I got 10!! That's like awesome, well to me! : ) **

**Also I dedicate this chapter to Sodapop Curtis from the Outsiders since his hotness has inspired me to update ASAP! Lol! I LOVE U SODA! Haha! And NO not the fictional character, his actor Rob Lowe is hot! : P **

**Anyway enjoy!**

**DO IT FOR JOHNNY!! LOL!**

X – X – X – X – X

I had gone out to get only one thing. The only thing that mattered to me. The thing I couldn't live without. The thing that was my very being and core, my very soul. I was walking to the gas station to get my cigarettes. I ran out an hour ago and it became the number one thing on my priority list. John had smoked my last one, two-timing bastard.

I had no money in my pockets, but Chris worked at the gas station today so I'm sure he'd sneak me a free box. He always stole things from work; pop, cigarettes, food, and booze. That was about it. I always warned Chris he would get caught one of these days, and then he'd be out of a job. It's hard to find another job when you haven't even finished high school.

I can't help but worry about my older brother. He was never going to get a better job than gas stations, fast foods, or law mowing services. He could make good money if he did all three, but that would just be too much work and Chris is too lazy to do it all. It's never too late to go back to high school, but _ha! _who am I kidding? Chris? Going back to school? Even if he tried he'd fail out. Only thing he was passing was woodshop, auto-mechanics, and P.E.

I need to stop worrying. It only makes me want a cigarette more and I needed to be on the look out. This was rummy territory I was walking on. If they saw a hood like me walking around they'd call the police or drag me out of this part of town their selves. More than likely they'll do it on their own.

I was prepared for the worse though. I had checked to see if my switchblade was in my back pocket before I had left the house. If push came to shove I'd shove the blade into their throats.

Oh, what am I thinking? I ain't never killed nobody. Mostly because the cops would throw me in the cooler and another part would be getting thrown in a boys home so fast it'll make your head spin. A kid being under eighteen and under the supervision of his older brother who is only twenty-two can make the legal system a little jumpy. Then, that means the rest of my family, other than Chris, would be sent off too. So we all try to be careful when it comes to getting in trouble with the cops.

I actually had a fear of policemen for a while now. They were always on the look out for hoods. We usually caused all the ruckus but so did the rummies. But, police would never think that those preppy, rich folk would do anything bad or dangerous in the community. It wasn't fair, but it was just how it was. Policemen stereotype us like there is no tomorrow. Just because we wear ratty clothing, our hair is shaggy, and we live in the slums doesn't mean that we're bad people. But actually, in all reality, we're just like the rummies.

What can you do? That's how it's been since John was born. It didn't bother me all too much. I didn't like the law always being on every corner of our street but none in the nice neighborhoods, like Shady Hollow or Brookside, but you learn to deal with it. Everyone's eyes on you, like every time you took a step you were committing a crime. It just becomes part of your everyday life when you live in the slums. When you're a hood…

I had gotten to the gas station in no time at all, but it seemed like hours. I was about ready to die if I didn't get a cigarette in the next five minutes. I started running at a steady pace into the gas station, rummies glaring at me up and down. Typical. Rich rednecks…

I pushed through the door of the gas station, the little _ring _of the bell above sounded as I stepped in. I put my hood down as I entered the store. Didn't need people thinking I was gonna rob the joint. I ruffled my shaggy, turquoise hair as I walked up the counter. Chris was sitting there, watching the tiny T.V on the counter that was no bigger than my shoe. He was watching football, Steelers vs. Giants today.

I slumped over the glass counter filled with lottery cards and candy. Right behind Chris was a big wall of cigarettes. They called to me.

"What's goin' on Chris?" I said casually while eyeing the cigarettes.

"Nothin'" he said dully, not bothering to look up at me. "What do ya want? Aren't ya suppose to be home watchin' Mikey?" That was my youngest brother, Michael's, nickname.

"He went with some friends."

"Great, so ya came all the way here to bother the hell outta me?"

"No," I snapped, "I came here to get some cancer sticks."

Chris eyes flickered to me, "Didn't John and I tell you to quit smokin' so much?"

"I didn't smoke that much," I lied.

"We got the last pack not even a day ago."

"John smoked the last of it."

Chris gave a mocking laugh, "There was only one left, kiddo. You smoked the whole damn thing, don't lie to me."

I rolled my eyes, "Does it matter? We're out and we need more."

"More like _you_ need more," he mumbled.

"Dammit, Chris! Gimme some cigarettes!" If I didn't get my nicotine soon I was going to strangle that kid.

"You got money?"

"Well…" I droned, kicking the dust on the floor, "I thought you could just…give them to me."

"Oh," he nodded, "I see how it is. Ya want me to just hand them over to ya, huh? Well, I dunno if I can do that since you're being so pushy 'bout it."

"I ain't being pushy! You're just being annoyin'!"

"Now you're gettin' snippy!"

"Don't you play this game with me. Just gimme the weed or I won't have to embarrass ya in front of all these people."

His eyes narrowed at me, "And how would ya do that?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, tell them how you're eighteen and still sleep with that teddy bear."

"You leave Mittens out of this! He ain't done nothin' to you!"

"All you have to do is gimme my cigarettes," I said softly.

Chris sighed, reaching his arm over to the glass cabinet that held every type of cigarettes imaginable. I didn't have to bother telling him which kind I wanted. We both liked Marble Lights.

"Hey, ya think ya can get some Jack Daniels?"

"You drank our booze too?" He yelled at me in a whisper, "What the hell Jesse? We had a whole twelve pack of Budweiser in the fridge!"

I rubbed the back of my head nervously, "Ya, well, me and Zane drank all of them. He kinda got into your liquor cabinet and drank your peppermint schnapps, too."

"Oh, god dammit, Jesse! That is expensive shit! How much did he drink?"

"Just a little! Chill, chill!"

Chris threw the pack of cigarettes at my chest, "I'm checkin' it when I get home. I swear to God, Jess, if there is more than a shot missing I'll skin you!"

I gulped, we had drunk almost half of it. "Alright, fine."

Chris grumbled words I couldn't hear under his breath while running his hands through his bushy black hair. He ripped his hand out of his hair and pointed to the door, "Go! Jenny's going to be home from Tommy's in a half hour and she'll freak out if you and Mikey aren't there."

"Are you kidding?" I questioned coldly, "She was at Tommy's house again?"

Chris's jet black eyes looked out the store window, gazing into space, "Yeah…"

John, Chris and I hated Jennifer's boyfriend for many reasons. One, was because he was a senior in high school and she was just a freshman. Two, because Jennifer always came home from his house with bruises and we had begged her to quit seeing him, but she just kept screaming, "I love him! I love him!" What a bunch of horseshit. That schmuck has beaten on her so much that he has scared her into loving him. Then, three, is because we've been finding condom wrappers in her purse and birth control bills.

We had all planned to beat the shit out of the dirty scumbag but Jenny told us if we did she would leave the house and go live with him. We'd rather face the deepest pits of hell than have her actually living with that monstrosity.

I sighed, "I guess I better go home then."

"Watch your back," he warned.

"Gotcha," I took the pack of cigarettes in my hands and walked out the door of the gas station, giving one quick wave to Chris.

I walked out into the sunlight, tearing the plastic paper off the Marble Lights. I flipped the packet open and snatched a weed out of it. I put the stick in my mouth, shoving the Marbles into my jacket pocket while grabbing a match. I ran the match against my dog tag around my neck that had my initials on it; a present mom and dad gave me for my birthday three years ago, and the match instantly caught into flames. I cupped my hands around the flames, lit my cigarette, then shook it out and threw it on the ground.

Taking a few drags on my cigarette, I looked around at the rummies, still staring at me. That's right; those rich idiots aren't use to a kid smoking. I started smoking when I was thirteen, John at fourteen, Chris at ten, Jenny also at thirteen and Mikey just started a few months ago. It was common for everyone, expect for _them. _

I blew smoke out of my mouth in a perfect "O" shape and started walking. I pulled my hood up over my head again. I would take it down as soon as I was back in my own territory. I put one fist in my pocket while my other held my cancer stick at my side.

I walked rather quickly out of the parking lot to avoid dragging more attention to myself. I was almost out of the gas station, almost!

"Hey, hood!"

Don't look at them. You can't start a fight here.

"Why are ya walking away?" Another voice called, mockingly. My fist tensed in my pocket.

"He's in a hurry to get his welfare checks!"

"Food stamps! Food stamps!" One of the rummies chanted and soon they all joined in. "Food stamps! Food stamps!"

Don't do it, I said to myself, it's not worth it.

"Come on hood! Since, yal are so tough, come fight back! Or did your daddy not hit you enough to toughen you up?"

I froze from where I stood. I stood still for a long time. There was this pain growing in my chest. I didn't know if it was because of the hurtful memory of Dad and Mom that zipped through my head or trying to hold in my urge to beat the hell out of those bastards.

Whichever it was didn't hold me back from turning to face them. There were four rummies. They had their nice convertible, as expect, name brand shirts, also expected. They weren't little guys, I wasn't gonna lie. They looked tough. They were pretty big. There was no way I could fight all of those guys.

I brought my cigarette and took a long drag on it, blowing out the smoke. I stared at them up and down, analyzing the situation. I could probably take on two, but not four. I sighed, throwing my cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with my foot.

"Oh, look! The street rat might come after us!"

I simply smirked at them and turned away, "You're not worth it!" That's right Jesse. Just walk away. It would be different if you were on your side of town.

"What a sissy!" One laughed, "He's afraid to fight us!"

I ignored them. I kept walking at a steady pace, trying to get to the borderline as fast as I could.

"Let's go after him!" One urged.

"Are you stupid, man? Street rats just live right down the road! You wanna get jumped?"

That's right. Street rats, a.k.a my friends that can kick all of your asses, live right down the street. They know if they mess with one hood, you mess with them all. There would be nothing left of them if they jumped me so close to the borderline. That's one philosophy us hoods live by, don't attack out of your territory. If rummies are challenging you on their part of town, leave. If they do it in ours, get out your switchblades 'cause there's about to be a war.

Good thing the rummies know that too.

I heard the roar of the convertible speed out of the gas station. Oh, those schmucks thought they were hot stuff, but really they're just cowards that talk a lot of game but can't back it up.

I heard the engine of the car getting closer to me. I didn't move out of their way. I knew they wouldn't try to run me over, just scare me into thinking they were. They zoomed by, hooting and hollering at me.

"Get out of our neighborhood, rat!"

I just shook my head. What idiots. I kept on walking until I reached the borderline that separated the rich from the poor, the rummies from the hoods, the cowards and the killers. As I crossed into my territory, my home, I had a strange feeling, call it a hunch that I was going to see those guys again.

And I hope I did.

X – X – X – X – X

I got home within twenty minutes or so, hoping I would make it there before Jennifer did, but she had come home a little earlier than expected. I walked through the screen door, my fourth cigarette in my mouth and I see Jenny lying on the couch crying her eyes out. I walked passed her, not really caring what Tommy had done this time to her. It was always something.

"Jesse!" She cried, "Jesse, come here!"

I stood in the kitchen halfway to my room where I wanted to be. It seemed like today I could never get to where I wanted to go without someone stopping me with their bullshit.

"Jesse!" She whined again.

I rolled my eyes to the back of my head as I dramatically slumped my way into the living room. I stomped in the room and stared at Jennifer, "What?"

Jenny didn't look at me as she talked about what Tommy had done wrong this time. She stared up at the cracked ceiling while sobbing to me, "That bastard! Goin' to the Marines! Leavin' me here all by my lonesome while he goes off to war gettin' blow to pieces! It ain't right!"

At least he's doing something for the good of the people. Tommy going to the Marines is something even I wouldn't expect. Tommy was a good-for-nothin' lazy ass bum who refused to get off the couch and go to work or school. Now he wants to go into the Marines for the good of America? What a transformation. Now he just needed to work on not hitting my sister and doing sexual activity with her when she's barely in high school and he'd do a one-eighty.

"Well, Jen, at least he's doing something productive."

"I don't care! Jesse, you have no idea how I feel right now!" She cried, wiping her eyes, "He's abandonin' me! Does he want me worryin' sick about him? Wonderin' whether he's comin' home or not?"

I blew smoke from my mouth, not saying anything. I hope that son of a bitch blows his head off when he's stupid enough to step on a landmine. John, Chris, and I will probably bring beer to the funeral to celebrate his eternity in hell.

"Maybe I should go live with him until he leaves, so I can see him as much as I can before he's sent off."

"No," I said quickly.

"Why not?" She asked, her eyes narrowing at me.

"'Cause you're livin' at your own house. Ya spend enough time over there as it is. Ya think maybe our _family _would like to see ya every once in a while?"

Jennifer scoffed, "Yal don't wanna see me. Ya just don't want me seein' Tommy, that's all."

I snapped what was left of my cigarette in half between my fingers from the sudden jolt of anger that rushed through my body. Is she serious? Of course we don't want her seeing Tommy but can't she see it's because we care about her? She's our sister, we wanna see her every chance we can get. She's like a stranger to us now. Even though we would never admit it, but we miss our sister, the old Jenny, the Jenny we knew when Mom and Dad were alive.

I bit my lip and threw the cigarette in the trash can beside me. I wanted to say something so bad, say something hurtful to her, make her feel guilty for all the pain and worry she has caused for me, Michael, John, and Chris. We've all had our turn staying up late at night waiting for her to come home.

I couldn't look at her. I couldn't even bring myself to speak to her. I left the room faster than intended, beating the wall with my fists.

"Jesse?" She called out, "What's wrong with you?"

I answered her by slamming my door shut. I was so angry that I couldn't control myself from kicking my lamp from my nightstand. The lamp broke on the other side of my room, shattering into millions of pieces. I stood there, my face twisted into some ugly emotion I couldn't even explain. I was hurt, in pain, miserable.

My breathing was coming out short. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, trying to control myself. I took deep, calming breaths. Find your center, Jesse. Just…relax. Take a breather.

I shook my head, running my hands through my hair, then pulling on it in frustration. I let out a much need scream and pounded my fists into my door. My knuckles were turning red and throbbing with how hard I was beating the door. I stopped just before they started to bleed.

"Dammit…" I mumbled under my breath.

I had to sit down. I just needed to take a break. I just had to think. So I slowly sat on my half-broken bed from when Chris and I had wrestled on it. I slumped up against the wall, letting my legs lay across the bed. I sat there for a long time, zoning out on the picture of Mom, Dad, me and my brothers and sister.

I remember when we took that picture. We were out at the farm. Dad was teaching Chris, Michael and I how to shoot a crossbow. Chris was the best at it. Michael couldn't hit the broad side of a barn and I guess I was okay at it. I could never really shoot an animal. I did once when I went with my dad and brothers in the gun season, but when I did I felt sad more than excited.

The boys of the family always did stuff together. Jennifer and Mom always did their girly thing together. In those days Jennifer was a happy girl. She got good grades and never got into any trouble. To be honest, if you looked at our family two years ago and us now, you would think we were one of the rummies. We weren't really hoods during that time, middle-class as you call it. We weren't rich and we weren't poor.

But, after Mom and Dad died it all went down hill. We had to move out of our house and buy this junky one since it was the only thing John could afford on his salary building houses and running his own lawn moving service. Chris and I help John pay the bills by working with him. When John wasn't making a whole lot of money and couldn't buy us clothes or food, Chris dropped out of high school and got his job at the gas station.

I had thought about dropping out myself but John told me that I should stay in school and make something out of myself. But, with my grades I'll be lucky to get into college.

I wondered what Mom and Dad would think of us now, seeing us failing school, or dropping out and working more than two jobs, their little girl going with an older man and always fretting if she's pregnant or not. They would be ashamed. They probably wouldn't even recognize us. We all have changed so much.

John was always a care free kind of guy but now he was hard, mean, always yelling at us for every little thing. Chris, he was a good kid and still is, but now he's getting jailed and drunk every night after work. Me, I was always the one to lift people's spirits, always glowing with energy, but now I'm always angry with everything in life. Jenny, she was a good girl, hate to say she reminded me of a rummy, now she's on the road to becoming a teenaged mother. Michael, he was always shy. Even though his attitude is the same, he's changed more than any of us. He always has nightmares of Mom and Dad, wakes up screaming every night. Chris and I have to take turns sleeping with him now. He's self esteem is the lowest I've ever seen it.

When the funeral came around we were a mess. John stood there trying not to cry, just his hands shoved in his pockets staring blankly at the open casket. (Yeah, our stupid aunts and uncles who we currently don't speak to wanted the funeral to be open-casket so they could see my mom and dad before they were buried. That only made everything harder on us.) Chris was never the one to cry but he broke down and bawled like a baby, me right beside him doing the same thing. Jenny couldn't even bring herself to be in the same room with our parents' corpses that were shot up with chemicals to keep them from rotting. Michael cried along with Chris and me, screaming for Mom and Dad to come back. That only made us cry harder and actually got John to spill a few tears.

To this day, only two years from then, we're still the same. Emotional wrecks, always on edge, jumpy, gone all the time, crying to ourselves at night. We were all different from when we were a few years ago.

My eyelids started drooping shut. I guess all the boiling rage and painful memories were taking their toll on me. I was so sleepy. I let my head drop as my eyes slid close. In no time I was unconscious.

It was the same dream I've been having for a while now. I would wake up in a field of wheat, the sunlight hitting my face. When I would stand up it was like I was looking at miles upon miles of gold. It was the prettiest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Then, I would hear voices calling my name. I would look down to see my siblings and parents waving to me. My heart would skip a beat seeing Mom and Dad there and I was the happiest I have ever been. But, as I ran to greet them, Mom and Dad started to disappear until they were just dust in the wind.

Chris would always ask me in my dreams what I was looking at as I stared into the air where my parents once stood. I reached out to touch the things I wish were there and the air would be ice cold. As I touched that nothingness, that void, my mind would rush with images of that night when Mom and Dad died. The lights of the squat car pulling into our driveway, how Chris and I had dashed to accident that was out in rummy territory while John watched Jennifer and Mikey, how we saw the smashed up piece of metal that was once our car, how the paramedics wouldn't let us see Mom and Dad who were stuffed in bags, how it was those _rummies _that were drunk that killed Mom and Dad!

Then, I would scream at the top of my lungs and I jolt awake.

I shot up from my bed, screaming. My breath was shaky. I held my hand to my chest, trembling with terror. I guess Mikey isn't the only one having nightmares.

My bedroom door flew open and Chris was standing there with John right behind him. They looked panicked and I didn't blame them.

"What the hell happened?!" Chris demanded.

I stared at Chris, trying to find my voice. When I knew I couldn't speak I went back staring at my feet. I ran my hands along my sweaty face. I breathed in and out like I was a woman about ready to give birth to her child.

"Jesse?" I heard John's deep voice call out to me. I felt him sit next to me on the bed. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, speaking to me like I was five years old. "What's wrong, Jesse? Did you have a nightmare?"

I nodded slowly.

Chris's body became less tense and let his shoulders relax. He sighed, sitting on the foot of the bed, getting me to look at him, "Golly, Jesse, ya scared us to death. We came in here thinkin' ya were gettin' stabbed!"

"Well I wasn't!" I snapped, "It was just a dream! Will yal quit treating me like I'm Mikey?"

"It was a dream about Mama and Dad, wasn't it?" John asked.

I scowled, "What if it was? I ain't no child! I'm seventeen and I don't need yal comfortin' me like I'm a helpless puppy!"

"Don't be ashamed of it. I've had a few dreams like that before."

"Whatever," I scoffed, shaking John's arm off my shoulders, "I'm over it."

Chris smirked at me, poking my cheek, "Hey Mr. Grumpy how 'bout we all go see a movie tonight at the drive-in to get those nasty thoughts outta ya head?"

Surprisingly, that sounded like fun. I haven't been to the drive-in in ages. It would be like the good old days. Me and my brothers, maybe Zane and Atticus would come too if they weren't going to any parties tonight.

"How 'bout it kid brother? Wanna go?"

I gave a little smile and shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

"Great!" He yelled, tackling me to the bed, "Maybe we'll meet some calling-hot chicks!"

As Chris was pinning me in a head lock I felt my face fall, "Yeah…" I said weakly, "Sure…"

"Then, after the movie we can throw a party and everyone's gonna get ripped!"

"You're going a little too far with this, little man," John laughed and got off the bed, "Come on, we better get going."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the drive-in. Were you not listening?"

"But it's only noon."

"Think again," John pointed to the window, were the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. Man, how long was I asleep?

"About four hours," Chris answered my thoughts. Sometimes I think he's a physic.

"Yal get off your asses! Come on!"

"Wait, what are we gonna do with Mikey?" I asked.

John rolled his eyes, "Will ya quit worryin'? He's spending the night at his friends."

"What 'bout Jenny?"

"She's at Tom's," John's perky voice suddenly fell.

That's all I needed to hear. I grabbed onto Chris's arm that was wrapped around my neck and flipped him over my back and he flew off the bed onto the hard floor. But, he jumped right back up to his feet and tried to land a punch on me, but I jumped off the bed in time and ducked my way around him. I started laughing as I ran down the small hallway into the kitchen and out the door in the nick of time, only because our house was so small.

Chris and John were right behind me as I hopped off the porch, doing a kick flip and landed gracefully on the balls on my feet. Chris and John did their acrobatics, too. Chris doing a cartwheel off the steps and John doing a front flip.

I was always the flexible one in the family so I was able to do a lot of acrobatics naturally. Well, everything except a split. That could kill me. Chris and John begged me to teach them how to do all the flips and hand springs because they thought it would be useful in a fight. So I taught them a few things and now everywhere they go they're walking on their hands.

John thought it would be better not to go through the gate that surrounded our house, but to swing over it. He jumped up, grabbing the poles of the chained fence and swung his body over it. He pushed off and landed awkwardly on the ground and fell on his butt.

Chris and I started laughing at him and he smiled, pulling himself to his feet. We started walking around the neighborhood, laughing and yelling stupid stuff because we felt like disturbing what little peace we got in this part of town.

It was actually fun. John rarely has any time to spend with us because of his jobs so this was really nice. I wish we were able to do this every night, but it was only a wish and that is one dream that probably won't come true.

"Hey, Jesse, I almost forgot to say how proud I was of ya for not kickin' the crap outta those rummies at the gas station."

John's smile quickly dropped when he heard what Chris had said, "What?"

Chris's smile didn't disappear. He put his elbow on John's shoulder while pointing at me, "Ya should have seen it John! This kid right here was gettin' harassed by those rich bastards and he kept his cool that whole time! I was 'bout ready to come out and save ya Jesse but ya handled it better than I expect. I thought ya would at least throw a punch at 'em!"

"What did you do?" John asked, his expression serious.

Chris answered for me, "He walked away. He knows better than pickin' a fight with the rummies outta our territory. I swear, John, I was so proud of this kid!" Chris pulled his elbow off of John and jumped on me, ruffling my hair with his hand, "This kid's smart like me!"

John gave one, loud laugh, "Chris, if that were you in Jesse's place today ya probably would be in the cooler right now."

Chris chuckled, "Probably."

"I was 'bout to hit 'em," I said.

"But ya didn't! That was very wise of ya!" Chris laughed and thrust his thumb to himself, "I probably would have laid 'em out!"

My voice became stern, "Ya better watch yourself tonight, Chris. We'll be in their territory."

Chris lowered his head and bit on his fingernail, "Shit, you're right." He looked at me and John cautiously, "Did one of ya bring a switchblade?"

I was the first the reach into my back pocket and flip out my blade, then John reached in his unbuttoned flannel shirt and pulled out his switchblade.

"Good, yal might need those."

"What are ya gonna do if your jumped, Chris?" I asked.

He shrugged, "It's a good bet we won't, it's just a precaution, and if we do they probably won't have any weapons." Then, Chris smiled and winked at me, "A little skin to skin fight never hurt nobody."

I glanced down at the switchblade in my hands. I really hoped I didn't have to use this tonight because I knew if I actually got in a situation bad enough that I had to get ready to use a weapon I wouldn't be able to. I could never cut anyone. I sighed and put the weapon back in my pocket and John shoved his in his shirt.

Like Chris said, we probably won't get jumped at all. In front of all those people, no rummy dog would ever cause a scene. Too many witnesses.

I gazed up at the sky. It was painted with many different colors such as purple, orange, red, pink, and some dark blue. It was beautiful. A good night to go to a drive-in movie. I took a big gulp of air and smiled, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah," John said dreamily.

"Remember at our old house, when we sat in the back yard and watched the sunset?" I asked.

We all remembered that. Chris grinned and put his hands in his pockets, "Those were the good ol' days."

When Mom and Dad were still alive, we would all sit out in the back yard in lawn chairs and watch the sun go down. It was a memory that was in all of our heads. It was so peaceful but also depressing to know that it was _only _a memory. It could never come back.

All of us were silent for a while until we hit the borderline between classes. As soon as we took that one step over the boundary line we were tense, edgy. Our eyes flickered back and forth to see if any rummies were looking at us or trying to start something. We stayed close together, watching each other's backs.

I always had my hand close to my back pocket. I was always so jumpy when I crossed into foreign territory. This part of town and our part of town was totally different and you can tell. Every car that passed us by were Mustangs, Corvettes, Firebirds, BMWs, Mercedes, all tough looking cars. All shiny and new and decked out. It made me burn with jealousy.

The houses were huge, some mansions. It was hard to think that only a few miles away was the hood. Run-down houses with collapsing chain-linked fences and rusted cars. It was a completely different world than the one me and my family lived in. This was paradise while where we lived was screaming hoodlums with knifes and guns.

"Hey look at the hoods!!" Someone from a car called.

"Get a job, bums!!"

Everyone in the shiny red Corvette laughed and pointed at us as they sped by. Rage started boiling inside me again.

"Rich trash…"

"Easy now, Jesse," Chris said.

I tried to reframe from pulling out my switchblade and clashing every tire of every nice car in the parking lot of the movies.

We started walking through the dirt-trailed parking lot along the fence. Every where you looked there were clusters of rich kids by their fancy sport cars. They were all dressed like they were going to a dinner party. Nice shoes, nice shirts, nice pants, nice blouses, nice hair, nice everything.

Then there was us, the hoods. John in a oil stained white shirt with a red flannel shirt overtop of it and jeans, his dark turquoise hair shaggy and sticking all over the place. Chris in baggy jeans, grey shirt covered with his GT gas station uniform, sleeves cut off and unbuttoned, jet black hair bushy curling out at the ends. Then, me, jeans, cut-off sleeve shirt, a black jacket over top of it, stained with paint from when I had painted Zane's basement and my lighter turquoise hair stick out all over the place like John's.

Oh, yeah we fit right in.

John, Chris and I snuck closer to the fence, the movie already started. We looked around to see if anyone was watching us then ran over to where there was a ditch under the fence where we could sneak in.

John went first, slipping his body through the dirt and pulling himself through the gap. Then went Chris, since he was pretty small for his age he got through quicker than John. I went and got through pretty quick too since I was about Chris's size.

Chris pulled me up by my arm and brushed me off. Then, we headed to the lawn where you could sit if you didn't have a car. Mostly everyone here had a car of some sort, but we were the only ones who didn't because we couldn't afford it.

We walked passed all the rummies who stared at us smugly, like they were better than us just because they had money. We maneuvered our way through the tight squeezes between the cars without much problem…until Chris hit someone's rear-view mirror and knocked it off the car.

I watched as it fell onto the grass. Chris chuckled quietly, "Oops! My bad!"

"Chris, you idiot!"

"What, dude, it's a cramped squeeze through here! I couldn't help it!"

"Just hurry up and go before the owner of this car finds out we knocked it off!"

Chris nodded and turned around, walking through the cars faster than I could keep up. "Chris! Wait up!" I yelled. I went to take a step but I was stopped, not by someone, but a voice.

"Oh, what the fuck?! Someone jacked up my new car!"

I raised my eyebrow, the voice was familiar. I slowly turned my body around to see who the voice belonged to. When I saw who it was I wasn't as surprised as I should have been. It was those same guys who were messing with me at the gas station earlier today. I felt adrenaline rush through my body.

I called it! I knew I would see them again! I just knew it!

The rummy looked over at me immediately. I didn't care that I was smirking at him. I want to fight him! I want to fight him! Make him mad, I thought, make him mad, get him to hit you first, then lay him out.

"_You!_" He hissed, "You street rat, you did this!"

"I ain't done nothin'."

"Lair!" He screamed. He took his coke that was in his hands and threw it on me, "You dog! Fucking hoodlum trash!"

The coke was cold on my face. I took my sleeve of my jacket and wiped the soda out of my eyes. I blinked a few times and glared at the rummy garbage.

His friends came behind him, but there was more than there was last time. There was five now. There was an extra boy, chocolate brown hair with eyes to match. It didn't look the type to being hanging around with this trash. He didn't look mean at all. He actually looked innocent.

"Hey, Chazz," One of the rummy's friends chimed in, "How much would it be to fix that mirror?"

"Probably a hundred bucks," the rummy, whose name was Chazz responded.

"Well let's have him pay for it," he said with a smug grin on his face.

Apparently Chazz and his friend were transferring some secret message through their eyes that I didn't get. Soon Chazz let a wild smirk play across his lips after he figured out what his friend meant by me "paying for it". I knew for a fact they weren't going to take my money.

I was suddenly on guard, eyeing all the trash that was stepping closer to me by the second. My hand twitched towards my pocket where my switchblade was. I wasn't gonna use it unless I had to. I wanted to be prepared just in case this gets out of hand.

I waited for them to make the first move, which I realized after the fact that that was a bad idea on my part. Those goodie-goodies were quick, different from the other rummies I've fought against. They actually had experience with fighting, I could tell. Chazz and one of his followers grabbed the collar of my shirt and shoved me against their car. Chazz slammed my face so hard on the glass window I'm surprised he didn't break it.

"Aster, get his arms, get his arms!" Chazz commanded.

Aster, the lapdog for Chazz, grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back. He twisted them together so tight I thought they were going to snap in half. I grunted and tried to kick one of them with one last ditch effort to get free. It didn't help me at all.

As I was struggling and jerking around to get free, Chazz started laughing and reached into my back pocket. He pulled out my switchblade and flipped it open, revealing the sharp edge of the blade that shined in the moonlight.

"Well, well, hood! You make this way too easy for us! Now we don't have to get our hands dirty!"

I felt Chazz's cool breath on my neck as he pulled my switchblade up to my neck. He grabbed a hand full of my hair and jerked me back from the car, Aster still holding my arms with a firm grip. Chazz yanked on my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck. I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out to avoid drawing attention to the situation.

Chazz touch the cool blade to my bare skin and quickly sliced my throat, not enough to kill me, it was barely a flesh wound. But, man did cuts on the neck bleed like crazy.

"One cut, one dollar, _rat_," He chuckled smugly in my ear, "Only ninety-nine more to go until you've paid for a new mirror."

He cut another gash from my chin down my neck, again nothing more than a paper cut. Then he moved the blade to my cheek bone and made another one there. "You have a good-looking face, hood. I bet you get a lot of attention from the ladies…" Chazz trailed off and sliced me from my cheek to my temple, "I wonder how much they'll like you after I'm finished."

This is bad. Chris and John were nowhere to be found. They had gone up ahead and knowing those idiots they probably haven't noticed that I was gone yet.

"You know, if I stab you right here,"-Chazz started poking the tip of the blade on my arm-"then you won't die. It's a good deal too because I'll count that as twenty dollars towards your earnings."

I clenched my teeth and started jerking around more but that Aster was one strong mother fucker. I whipped my arms around and tried to throw myself to the ground, maybe get Aster over my back, but it didn't help.

"Just stick him now, Chazz!" Aster yelled, "I can't hold him much longer!"

Chazz didn't hesitate. He pulled his arm back and thrust the knife forward. I twisted my eyes shut 'cause this was gonna hurt. I waited for impact and an agonizing pain to shoot through my arm, but I didn't feel anything. My first thought was, _I'm dead. He stabbed me in the heart and I'm dead right now._

I opened my eyes, expecting to see a white light or Jesus in a toga telling me to follow him. But, to my surprise, that's not what I saw. I was still at the movies, Chazz, Aster, and the rest of the rummy-dummy trash was there. I glanced down at my arm, no blood, I hadn't even been stabbed. The knife was less than a centimeter away from my flesh. I looked up to see why Chazz had stopped and I was utterly shocked to see one of his own followers had stopped him.

It was the extra boy that wasn't at the gas station. That brunette, the innocent one, had his hand on Chazz's arm.

Wait, a _rummy _saved _me? _This was wrong. This was all wrong. The rich aren't supposed to stick up for the hoods. At least, that's what I grew up knowing. I've never seen it before either.

Chazz didn't know whether to be angry or surprised. This was a first. "Jaden, what the hell are you doing?"

"This has gone far enough." His voice was hard, stern.

"Why do you care about what I do to this street rat? He's a nobody!"

"He's a person!" The boy, named Jaden, snapped. "He didn't mean to break your mirror, it was an accident."

I was lost. This Jaden kid is sticking up for me. Why? That's all I was wondering was why? I wasn't thinking how he had just saved me from having a blade in my arm, just why he was defending me. I mean, he's an upper-classmen and I'm nothing but a hoodlum. I should mean nothing to him.

Chazz's eyes burned with fiery, "Oh, so you've stooped to this dog's level? You're defending him now?" Chazz whipped his arm out of Jaden's grasp and then shoved me onto his car. My back hit the Mustang and then I was staring at my switchblade that was placed in between my eyes, "I'll just kill you and get it over with. One less hood in this town will do us all some good."

"Chazz, stop it!" Jaden screamed.

There were too many voices after that. So much screaming and yelling. John and Chris had come jumping on cars and running over the hoods, which is what caused most of the hollering. They had leaped off one car and tackled Chazz and Aster to the ground.

John flipped out his switchblade quicker than you could bat an eyelash and shoved it at Chazz's throat. Chris was wrestling with Aster on the ground, slugging him in the face every chance he got. I just stood there like an idiot, watching and observing.

John pushed the tip of the knife on Chazz's throat, perching his skin, "Come on tough guy! You wanna mess with us?"

Chazz cursed at my brother under his breath and reached for the switchblade he had dropped when John had tackled him. Bad thing his arms were long because he had the blade in his hands in no time. He twirled around his fingers so the blade was facing John. John hadn't noticed that Chazz had the knife at his side and my brain quickly told me to stop him.

I ran up to John, grabbing Chazz's wrist before he had a chance to take a jab at my older brother. I twisted his wrist in a swift motion until I heard it crack. Chazz let out a scream, his wrist fell limb on the ground, dropping the knife. I snatched the switchblade and placed the edge on Chazz's forehead. Now he had two blades to deal with.

Chazz was breathing heavily from both fear and agony. Sweat dripped down his face. I had glanced over at Chris who was punching Aster in the gut, then pulling his fist back and slugged him square in the jaw. He passed out at impact. Chris had always been a good fighter even without a blade. If you faced him in a skin fight he'd probably kill you, weapon or not.

By then I didn't notice how much of an audience we had. People had gotten out of their cars, or at least were sticking their heads out the window to watch. Almost every one of them was rummies so there was no cheering. They were staring at us, dumbfounded. Probably shocked that we were stupid enough to fight in their territory.

I felt someone's hand on my shoulder and instant reaction I pulled my blade form Chazz and pointed it at them. The brunette, Jaden, gasped and took a step back. When I saw how frightened he was I pulled the blade down. I couldn't believe I was letting my guard down for this white trash with money.

Jaden's eyes stared nervously at me, "You're bleeding pretty bad."

I cocked an eyebrow, running my fingers down my neck and on my face. I was bleeding a lot. I only got about six cuts, not all too deep but they were bleeding like mad. I knew I must have looked scary to him with all this blood and dirt on me. I really did look like a hood right now.

"It's fine," I said coldly, "It's just a little flesh wound."

Soon Chris was walking towards us, wiping the sweat off his forehead, "Dammit, Jesse! Came here to have a nice night and ya go on gettin' into fights! We're leavin' ya at home next time!" Even though Chris usually took things like this as a joke, he did take the time to glare at Jaden as he walked past. "You wanna fight too, _trash_. Your friends all left ya so it wouldn't be too smart to try it."

Jaden took a step back. He has obviously never been confronted by a "street rat" before. And he was just too childlike to look like a fighter, "No, no! I don't want to fight. I was just seeing if he was okay."

Both Chris and John gave confused looks to each other then stared at Jaden, not saying anything. I knew they were thinking the same thing I was.

"Fucking dogs, get off of me!" Chazz screamed.

John turned to Chazz, staring at him hatefully, then sighed and put his switchblade away in his shirt. I also put my switchblade away that was covered in my own blood. John and me got off of Chazz, backing up from him as he wobbled his way off the dirt ground.

Chazz held his wrist close to his side, his face glistening with sweat, "You damn hoodlums! You're nothing but white trash! Every one of you are leeches! You dogs should be tamed since none of your drunken parents will do it themselves!"

I saw Chris's body tense. His eyes were becoming wild and John and I knew how he got when someone mention our parents, since it was rummies that had killed them.

John quickly held Chris back. He wrapped his arm around his chest, whispering in his ear, "It's not worth it."

Chris didn't have time to relax before the sirens of cop cars echoed in the distance. Now I was the one freaking out. I pulled on John's shirt, "We gotta get outta here," I mumbled.

John nodded and started to drag Chris away from the scene. His crazy eyes never left Chazz's, "I'm watching you," he mouthed. John started pulling Chris more until he snapped out of his trance and was ready to run.

All three of us leaped on the hood of a nice BMW and in the distance you could see the lights of the police car speeding down the road. Chris and John were already busted out in a mad dash to the fence, jumping on cars and weaving in and out of the way like it was a maze.

Before I left I glanced at Jaden's face. I couldn't quite read what he was thinking, but I did want to remember his face. He was a handsome boy. I didn't know but it was something about him that made me get this feeling as though he were different from the rest.

I didn't have time to figure out what the particular feeling was before the cops pulled into the parking lot of the theater. I shook my head clear of stupid thoughts and wonders until I was only focused on getting the hell out of here.

I started running my heart out, hitting my thighs when I bumped into a car or rolling over the front of them. It didn't take me long to get to the fence where Chris and John were waiting since I was running so fast in panic. Like I had said before, I was afraid of the police. They could take me away from my family and that was reason enough to be scared.

John had pushed me through the gap in the fence where we had come in at. I dived under it and crawled on my elbows as fast as I could. Chris pulled me out on the other side, then yanked John through since he didn't go fast enough.

Once John was up on his feet we started sprinting towards home so fast we thought our lungs might have burst if we ran another second.

X – X – X – X – X

Kikuchan: RACIAL FIGHT!!

Jesse: I'm so badass!

Kikuchan: yes that was my intention, since we all no you're a pansy in real life

Jesse: …….

Kikuchan: KIDDING!! I'm just kidding! You know I love you Jesse!

Jesse: I'm gonna beat your ass …in a game of Wii tennis : )

Kikchan: ur on! I'm beastly at that game!

Jesse: Bring it!

Kikuchan: it's already brung girlfriend!

Jesse: I'm like a fucking ninja at that game!

Kikuchan: No! I'm a ninja! WAPOO! –hits Wii and it falls to the ground and breaks- SHIT!

Jesse: way to go…

Kikuchan: okay okay everyone needs to review! I mean you HAVE to or gorillas will show up at your house and start humping you! So if you don't want your innocence taken by a monkey, U BETTER REVIEW!! : ) love youuuu!


	3. Jack and Diane

**I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY!!!! MINNA I WAS GROUNDED! Like not just grounded, grounded. I mean to new extremes grounded! I have been cut off from my computer, my ipod, my TV, my friends for the pass three weeks! THREE WEEKS!! My grades have been really bad and I had exams so I had to study and I just couldn't get to the computadora (computer in Spanish) see? I've been studying so munch I'm speaking Spanish now! **

**So I hope u all are out there! I hope I get at least SOME reviews! And yes! I will be updating my other stories very very very soon! **

**BTW! ****Feliz Navidad!! Dammit! I mean Merry Christmas! I hate Spanish! I suck at it!**

**Anyway! Enjoy the next chapter! FINALLY!**

X-X-X-X-X

I have had enough of John. I couldn't even stand to look at his face any longer, in fear I might do something I might regret later. I stomped away to my room, making my footsteps as loud as possible, and then slammed my door shut as hard as I could. I locked my door so neither John nor Chris could come in.

John was angry. I mean _extremely _angry at me. Not even five minutes after we got home from running our hearts out was he scolding at me for being so foolish as to feed into the rummies games. He wasn't just scolding, he was screaming in my face so loud that I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors called the cops on us again. Chris had to pry him away from me, which gave me my chance to escape.

I couldn't even sit down I was so jumpy from rage. Chris even told him that it was his own fault and if he hadn't knocked off the mirror from the guy's car than none of this would have happened. But, did he care? No! He never cares! He doesn't care about me. He's never liked me. He was just being sincere and felt pity towards me because I had a nightmare about Mom and Dad.

Oh, my poor baby brother dreaming about Mommy and Daddy like a damned child. That's exactly what he feels. He thinks of me as a nascence and only acts like he cares to please Chris. He doesn't care. He never cared.

Soon enough, John came trailing down the hallway after me. I heard his quick, heavy footsteps come closer and closer to my bedroom door before I heard his fist slam into the wood. I paced back and forth, covering my ears to try and ignore his fists pounding on the door, just ready to take a swing at me.

"Open this door!" He shouted and started pulling on the locked knob.

"Go away!"

"Open this God damned door right now before I bust it open!"

I knew John would follow through with his threat. When he was this angry, there was no stopping him. I tried to make him go away by yelling hurtful things at him, but I've told him these things so many times that it just doesn't faze him anymore. I told him how Mom and Dad never loved him. I told him how he wasn't a brother to me. I said how he could die and I wouldn't even care. I said everyone would be better off if he _was _dead.

That's what was so sad about this. That things like that, which were so cruel and nasty, didn't bother him. This wasn't even that big of a deal. Yeah, we went to the movies and some idiots started some trouble with us and the cops got called, big deal? We deal with that every day. But, if there's an excuse to fight and argue, then by God we will use it. The screaming and yelling somehow numbs the pain we want to go away. That pain that no one is around. We're all we have left and we're ruining that until the point each and every one of us is going to be alone.

We are killing off what little family we have left by all of this fighting and we knew it well. We went to bed thinking about it every night, but still we refuse to stop it. All because it fills in the emptiness we feel. We try to get rid of all the bad thoughts with misery and if we keep going like this, nothing will be left of us as a family.

"John!" Chris's voice sounded like he was struggling to pull him away from the door. "John, let it go! He didn't do anythin' wrong!"

"_He didn't do anything wrong_?" John repeated our brother's words like he was shocked to hear Chris say such a thing. "_He_ fueled the fire! _He _knows to walk away! _He _put you, Michael, Jennifer, and himself at risk tonight by fightin' those scumbags! He never"-John stopped mid-sentence to kick my door-"_fuckin' _thinks about what he's doin'!"

"What could he have done? It's not like those rich assholes would have let him go!"

"He could have called for help!" John retorted.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Chris scoffed, "Are ya kiddin' me? A hood callin' for help from a few rummy-dummy idiots? Hell, I would have beaten him up myself!"

"There's no shame in puttin' your pride at the door to protect your family. I know you would have done it, too."

"Well, ya, I would, but…" Chris trailed off mid-sentence, knowing John was right, like always, and that he sticking up for me any further would only make him angrier, so he didn't say anything else. Yet another victory for John.

Silence fell throughout the house. This argument was over as quickly as it started. Chris was defeated in yet another debate with John as some feeble attempt to protect me from his wrath. I already knew before the yelling even started that John would prevail, leaving me in just as must trouble while leaving Chris feeling like a complete idiot.

John didn't even bother to start going on a rampage to get me to open my bedroom door. He knew I heard every word of their conversation and John didn't like to repeat himself. I heard his fist pound lightly on my door. This is an exercise he does when he's trying to blow off some leftover steam. Chris continued to say nothing, fear that our brother might go off again if he made the wrong comment. Soon enough John gave a final slam on my door before I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall.

Compared to all the other arguments this family has had that was probably one of the more peaceful ones. I was glad they made quick work of it before I lost my very last nerve, which was diminishing as we speak. I had to sit down somewhere before all the hostility towards John made my legs give out.

My shaking legs dragged themselves over to my busted up bed. I fell onto the lumpy mattress just before my legs caved in. I lay on top of my sheets that I've had since I was six and threw my head into them. I screamed as loud as my lung would allow me and pounded my fist into the comforter. I slammed my fists into my bed until I started doing physical harm to myself such as pulling my hair and gripping my arms so tight in rage that it would leave marks. I do this to exact revenge upon myself for the pain and suffering I feel that I have caused. It makes me feel as though I have been punished for my evil acts that tear this family more and more apart that it already is.

I continue this treatment until I feel satisfied. Since this is not a big deal, just a little trouble at the movies, I settle for the hair pulling and skin puncturing. If the situation was worse and I had actually caused the police to catch me and take my family away I couldn't even picture the terrible things I would do to myself.

After several minutes of standing outside my door, Chris finally walked away while listening to my yells of animosity towards both myself and John, and groans of frustration. I knew he was leaving to go drink with Zane or Atticus, whoever he felt like drowning the misery with. He does this every time we blowup at each other. I didn't bother to stop him. Hell, I'd go with him, too, if I didn't have to try and avoid John and if he would even let me.

I pushed my hatred aside until I heard the front door slam shut. After that I tried to let my fury ease down to a feeling that I didn't want to kill someone. It would be safe for everyone.

After using up all my energy fighting, running, yelling, screaming, and causing harm to myself I was finally drop-dead tired and just wanted to sleep all of this chaos off in a good night's rest. I didn't bother to move my body into a more comfortable position. I was too exhausted. I just laid there trying to focus on something else other than listening to John's angry footsteps just down the hall.

Going to sleep wasn't too difficult and to my surprise, no nightmares. My dream was a tad different that evening and very strange. I unwillingly was dreaming about that brunette at the movies that saved me from getting a blade in my arm. It was strange because I barely remembered his name, had only met him once for less than ten minutes, and now I was dreaming about him. I guess it was karma. Is it natural to dream about someone who came to your rescue? I would think.

My brain just replayed what happened at the movies, and all of the focus was on that boy. That chocolate brown hair falling lightly on his forehead that hung right above his matching eyes. I saw him grabbing that trash's (Chazz) hand to stop from my own knife piercing my skin.

The same scene played over and over in my head like a broke record. The more and more I watched it, the more and more I became furious. That stupid asshole saved me! A rich rummy idiot saved _me_! A hood, a menace to society, a troublemaker, the poor kid, the degenerate! I should not need saving from the enemy! What the hell was I thinking? I was just humiliated by that kid and I didn't realize it until now. God, I look like such a coward! I would have kicked my own ass!

I watched as the scene replayed once more. Every time that bastard stopped that blade I would scream pointless things at him. In my dream I actually walked up to him right as he jumped into the fight, like I was having some out-of-body experience, and start screaming in his face. But in my own dream I was a ghost and I was yelling at someone who couldn't see or hear me.

"Quit savin' me!" I shouted right into his face, "Ya should have let him stab me! Why do ya care if a hood dies? Isn't that your goal, huh? Ya rummies don't give a shit 'bout us! Let him cut me! Dammit! Stop!"

I knew he couldn't hear me, but it just felt good to yell at him. But, out of no where I stopped in my rampage. Something in my chest started to ache severely. I grabbed my shirt and tugged on it as I stared dumbfounded at the boy. What was this? Was I seriously feeling bad for this kid? Feeling bad that I was screaming at him? I had no idea what was going on. I just stopped shouting and suddenly feel like a total ass. I didn't even know the guy and I'm feeling sorry!

I continued to gaze upon that boy. Jaden, was him name if memory serves me correct. About the twentieth time my dream repeated itself, Jaden's acts became different. I watched at the scenery froze in time and those brown eyes flickered over to me. I felt my heart jump to my throat as Jaden walked over to my tense body. My palms started sweating and my legs felt like there was iron bars tied onto them. That kid just came closer and closer until his face was just a few inches away from mine. I felt his breath on my face and a sudden blush was burning on my cheeks.

Those slender arms wrapped around my neck and he pulled his body closer than wanted. A smirk played across his features as his lips came up to my ear. I heard his voice whispering to me, "I'll make you feel good."

I immediately found my voice, "What?" I shrieked.

Not even a second later he slammed his lips into mine in the most distasteful kiss ever. It wasn't _unpleasant_, it was only distasteful because it actually _did _feel nice. I didn't want it to feel that way. Why didn't I hate it? I actually liked it so much I started to kiss back.

This was so wrong! This was a guy! A guy kissing me and I _liked _it! My heart didn't want it to stop when my mind was screaming for me to wake up. I didn't know him, and I was kissing him, in a dream for God sakes!

Wake up!

I had to endure the dream for a few more seconds until my vision blurred right as his hand traveled south. My eyes snapped open but my body remained locked to the bed. I laid there as the sunlight shined through my blinds my mind wandering in all sorts of different directions. I brought my hand up to my forehead to wipe off the sweat and run my hands through my hair, trying to comprehend what I was just dreaming about.

I couldn't even think about it. It was so wrong on so many levels. I couldn't even believe that my mind would actually come up with something so vial. It's not me to have those kinds of fantasies. Even at seventeen, something such as that I would look as down right disgusting. What got me the most is that it was a man. I _know _I don't like guys! Yeah, I was debating about it a few months ago, but I know for a fact that I would never do something like that with a man. So, that means I don't like them.

It's not right and it's not natural! I couldn't control what my brain was thinking when I was asleep, so it doesn't mean anything. Nothing, Zip! I can't possibly…

I sighed. Or could it?

Now the question from months ago was now right back in my head. I try to tell myself that it's not true, but part of me always tells me I'm lying. I don't want to be, even if I really am. What would my family say if they found out? I know, they would reject me, like every other man or woman that comes out of the closet. I could just see all of their faces and reactions.

John – Completely and utterly sickened by me.

Chris – He already hates homosexuals so I would guess a severe dislike and always having hostility around me.

Jennifer – She would have seen it coming. She has already asked me if I was gay and of course, I denied it. No surprised expression, but maybe a little disgusted at the thought.

Michael – He may be young but he knows a lot. He's like Chris and will have the same reaction, not doubt. They'll probably start a little controversy about it amongst themselves and John.

That's why I was scared to think about it, let alone accept it. So, for now, I'm going to deny every single bit of it until a few months from now when I'm arguing with myself about it again. If I could prolong the day I have to make a decision, then I will. So, for now I was as straight as a fence post and I was sticking with it.

After making up my mind I decided it was time to get out of bed before I started wondering about more things I cared not to think about. I rolled out of bed and hopped to my feet. I stretched my arms up high into the air and stood on my tip-toes. Sighing, I grabbed my jacket that laid on my bed and threw it on my shoulders before heading for the door.

I opened my bedroom door slowly and peeked through the crack to see if John was anywhere around. I really didn't want to run into him this morning. I glanced around nervously, but all I heard was the sound of the television playing Saturday morning cartoons. I knew John didn't watch much T.V. and I didn't hear the sound of breakfast, so I figured he was at work.

I stepped into the hallway after I was sure it was safe. Even though John wasn't home I still walked rather quietly into the living room to see who was in the house. Knowing our home it could be anybody. People are always coming in and out of our home. I glanced around the corner to see my younger brother Michael, whose hair was so long you could barely see his eyes anymore, lying on the couch watching cartoons. I made a mental note to cut his hair ASAP before he starts running into walls because he can't see.

I stepped around the corner and raised my hand to greet him, "Hey, buddy. When did ya get home?"

"An hour ago," he said blankly while staring at the television like it was the best thing in the world.

I nodded, "Oh. Was John here when ya got home?"

He shook his head side to side in response.

"Was Chris?"

He shook his head once again.

I didn't expect Chris to be home. He probably wouldn't be home until later today or maybe another day at the most. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked awkwardly around while watching the television. Tom and Jerry was on.

Michael and I sat in silence for a while. When Mikey's watching T.V. you can forget about conversation. His main focus is on that screen. But, it wasn't too long until a commercial came on and he snapped out of his daze and started asking questions about what he missed last night.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at me, not moving his body an inch. "Where is everybody?"

"Well, John's at work, I guess. Chris left last night and Jennifer's at Tom's house right now."

Michael raised his eyebrow, "Why did Chris leave?"

I shrugged, "Oh, ya know, the usual."

"Ya guys get in a fight or somethin'?" He asked.

"Yeah. Chris got pissed and walked out."

Michael smirked and threw a scoff in there, "Man, tell me somethin' I haven't heard all ready." Michael's face fell not even a second later, "It's always the same," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm gettin' sick of it, too." I said quietly.

"It's pointless to hope it'll stop," he stated coldly, but a hint of hurt in his voice. "This family lives and breathes drama."

I snorted, "Damn right."

"So, what happened this time?" He questioned.

"We got in a fight at the movies with some retards over on the other side."

Michael's eyes widened a fraction and pointed to his neck, "Is that why ya got those cuts on your neck?"

In reaction, I ran my hands over my neck and cheek to see if the scratches were still there, and, of course, they were. I nodded while removing my hand from my face.

"What else happened?"

"Nothin'," I said a little too defensively. "The cops were called and we got outta there. John got pissed 'cause he thought I careless and shouldn't have gotten into a fight in the first place."

Michael stared at me for a moment, then chuckled, "Sounds like John to me, always bitchin' 'bout somethin'."

I rolled my eyes, "Tell me 'bout it. He _blew up_ on me and Chris tried to stop him. Then he went on to saying I never think and I put the family in jeopardy by fightin' those idiots. That's when Chris left."

"Seems like I didn't miss much."

"Nope, not really."

"Well, Chris better get back soon. He'll get fired from his job if he misses another day."

"Oh, Hell, you're right!" Chris can't lose his job…_again_. I won't let him. Then it will be my turn to stick up for him against John's wrath. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, "Fuck, I guess I'll have to go in for him."

"Then you better hurry," Michael said and glanced up at the clock on the wall, "His shift starts in a half hour and it takes you a good twenty minutes to get there."

I cursed under my breath and ran into the back of the house to Chris's room. I slammed open the door and fought through the clusters of junk in his room and dug through the big pile of clothes that lay on the floor. I scrambled through the dirty clothes until I found Chris's old GT shirt that still had the sleeves on it. I flung my jacket off and slipped my arms through the sleeves of the half jean, half flannel shirt, whichever it was. Quickly, I grabbed my jacket and burst out of the room in a mad dash towards the door.

I ran passed Micheal, watching the cartoon that was now off commercials and gave him a quick goodbye. He waved half-assed and went on watching television.

I jumped off the porch steps, no acrobats since I was in such a rush. I didn't even bother to use the door of the fence. I threw myself over the chain linked fence and landed roughly on my worn tennis shoes. As soon as my feet connected with the sidewalk I was off.

Man, I hated not having a car. Nobody I knew had one. I was always running or walking everywhere. If I was lucky Zane would let me borrow his bike, but usually he always uses it since he's never at home. The only thing good about running is it keeps me in shape. Not like I play any sports. All the sports team are overpopulated by rummy trash and no hood in their right mind would join their little preppy sports teams. The only time I play an actual sport is when me, Chris, and Michael round up some of our buddies to play baseball on that overgrown field down by our park.

I was running so incredibly fast that I was out of hood territory within ten minutes. Then, I started sprinting a little more quickly. Once again, I was passing the nice homes with the cars, the nice metal fences, the happy families with no worries. It made me sick. Was it really money that kept a family in peace and prosperity? What about the saying "Money doesn't buy happiness"? I think that's bullshit to be quite honest. Why wouldn't you be happy? I mean, you have everything you would ever want: Nice homes, beautiful family, nice cars, fancy ponds in the front of your house, even the dogs are beautiful. How is that not happiness? I guess, I would never know since I never have and never will experience it.

After passing all the houses I envied I was right across the street from the GT gas station. I dashed across the street, not really looking for cars, and was on the pavement in record time. As soon as I got onto the GT property I stopped and put my hands on my knees, breathing (but more like hyperventilating) in large gulps of air. Man, that was a long run.

I need a cigarette.

I reached into my back pocket, but nothing was in it. I groaned in agony. I didn't even bring my smokes! Could this day get any worse? Oh, hell I'll just take some from the store, who cares?

I continued to walk sluggishly up the pavement, no rummies in sight, thank God. But, there would be more later on today, no doubt about that. Maybe, just for kicks, I'll 'accidentally' pour gasoline on their car, or 'accidentally' put rat poisoning in their beer. It would do the world a favor.

I got to the front doors of the gas station and pushed them open. The little bell sounded and immediately I saw someone step out of the back room with the same uniform I had on. I've seen this guy before and have defiantly heard some rumors about him. How that guy actually has a crocodile _in his back yard_. I know! How he got the mayor of this town to agree to that I had no idea. I think it's because he's from Australia and they want to make him feel at home or something. But, other than the crocodile, he's a pretty nice guy. His name is Jim Cook.

He grinned at me while tipping his hat, "Mornin' mate! What can I do for ya?"

"I'm filling in for Chris Andersen today. He's…sick."

"Ah! I gotcha. So what's yer name?"

"Jesse Andersen," I greeted. "I'm Chris's younger brother."

Jim raised his eyebrow questionably, "Yer his brother? Hell, 'yal look nothin' alike."

I gave a nervous chuckle, "We get that a lot."

"Well, since yer gonna work for him today…" Jim trailed off and reached for one of the GT hats that hung on the rack. He tossed it at me and smile, "'ya better get ta work."

I nodded and put the baseball cap on backwards. "What do I have to do?"

"Ya can start by goin' back into the garage. We got some cars in there that need some repair. Do ya know anythin' about cars, mate?"

"I might not own one, but I know a few things." I actually know _a lot _about cars. I was just being modest. Since I do not own I car I fantasize about owning them. So, I try to learn as much about them as possible. Yep, just like every guy in America. I love cars.

"Good, good!" Jim praised while patting my shoulder. He took my wrist and started dragging me along to the back of the gas station while telling me directions on how to change oil and other junk such as that. Then, he pushed me out the door to stumble into a huge auto shop that was filled with cars I only wished of owning. Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Bentleys, and even a Lamborghini. My eyes sparkled as I stared at the shiny toys.

"Wow," I breathed. "This is amazing!"

"I know. It's not everyday people like us see cars of this stature."

"That's sad, man," I said blankly while looking around at the expensive vehicles.

Jim nodded and put his hand on my shoulder, "Well, you better get to work on that H2 over there." His finger pointed to the car as my eyes widened more, if even possible. Right in front of me was a slick, black H2 hummer with chrome rims that shines like a star. Oh, yeah, rummy cars alright. "Just change the rims ta thirty inches and give it a little wax. The owner should be comin' 'n 'bout an hour or so."

I simply nodded and Jim left for me to get at it. Of course, I didn't hesitate to dash over to the car of my dreams. I couldn't believe I was about to work on a Hummer! I was so excited. I'm glad Chris didn't come to work today. He said he worked on cars, but he never mentioned _these _were the kind of cars he worked on. Hell, I might start working here.

Still staring dumbstruck at the car, I ran my hands over the black hood of the car. I wanted to see the inside so bad. So, I did. Of course, I looked around to see if anyone was coming before I walked to the driver's side door. I opened the door and jumped right onto the leather seating. I smiled as I looked around at the fancy gadgets and nick-knacks. The stereo system looked amazing, but I didn't dare turn it on, afraid that Jim would hear it. But, oh how I wanted to! This thing was so awesome! I felt so big in this car. So rich and goodie-goodie. I liked it.

Whoever owned this car was living the life I wanted and realizing that I suddenly lost interest the vehicle. I sighed and slipped off the leather onto the garage floor, where I belonged. I was just the poor kid and I had to fill in the poor kid shoes. I just had to do my job as the auto-repair guy and get over that everyone had a better than me. I slammed the car door shut and stomped away to get the new rims for the Hummer.

I went over to the tool table to get a socket, a jack, and a tire lever. Next to the table was the new rims sitting there waiting to be used. I gathered everything I needed to fix up the car and got straight to work.

It took me about an hour to do everything. Changing rims is more work than you think. I had to use the jack to lift the car's tire so I had easy access to it. I had to do this to every tire. I had to deflate each tire and use the socket to loosen and remove any fasteners that physically attach the rim to the car wheel. I had to make sure I didn't lose any pieces. I used the tire lever to slip in between the rim and tire and force the rim off of it. I had to place the new rims in the tires and since it was overlapping I had to adjust the tires and have extra securing when I fastened the new rim onto the wheel. So, I had to continue this process until all four rims were on the car and secure. Then, re-inflated the tires. Yeah, it takes some work. (A/N: I googled every bit of that)

The hard work was all done so the last thing I had to do was wax the car. That took me about fifteen minutes and I was officially done. All together it was a little over an hour, but pretty good for a guy who's only changed rims twice when his dad owned a car.

Just as I threw the rag on the ground Jim came walking through the door and announced the owner of the car was here to pick it up. He also commented on how I did a good job for such a short amount of time.

Jim whistled in amazement as he kicked the tires and rubbed his hand on the newly replaced rims. "Great job, mate! Fine work! Ya ever work in auto mechanics before?"

"Naw, I'm only in high school."

"Wow! It looks like a professional did it. I'm gonna consider hiring ya, mate!"

I smiled, but shook my head, "Thanks, but no thanks. I got other commitments." Like taking care of my crazy family. But, I would really like to work here.

Jim sighed, "That's too bad. I could really use ya." He shrugged and then reached into his pocket, taking out a small white box and held it out for me to see, "But, I can at least give you payment."

Cigarettes! I almost forgot about them! I took them a little too eager from Jim's hand. I quickly tore the plastic wrap off and flipped the package open, taking one smoke out. Since I never go anywhere without my lighter I was already prepared. I whipped out my lighter from my pocket and lit the cigarette. I puffed out the smoke as I rolled my eyes to the back of my head in pleasure that I finally had nicotine.

Jim laughed as he walked away to the giant garage door, "Yer Chris's brother all right. Yal love yer smokes." I watched as he pulled down on the red lever. The light that hung right above the garage turned to green and the door slowly started to open. The sunlight slowly started pouring into the shop as I walked around the Hummer to see if everything was okay to go, taking drags on my cigarette in the process.

When the garage door finally clicked open I started walking around from the back of the vehicle. I at least had to see who the car belonged to. I walked up to the owner with my hands in my pockets to reframe from punching him because I was jealous of his car. When the owner was visible my eyes grew enormously wide and my cigarette almost fell out of my mouth.

His gaze turned over to me and his eyes widened the slightest bit, but not as obvious as mine were. I thrust my finger at him and went to say something, but I didn't think of anything good to say. All I could come up with was, "It's you!"

Jim glanced back and forth at the brunette and myself, "Oh, you to know each other?"

"Um…you could say so," the boy answered.

Oh my God! It's that Jaden kid! Karma is coming back to get me! I couldn't even look at him. Last night's dream started flashing before my eyes. How he kissed me, how he whispered in my ear, how his hand…

I shut my eyes as hard as I could and reopened them, now I was just staring at the brunette, no dreams, no unwanted images.

"Well, then Jesse I guess ya can handle it from here. I gotta go back up to the front and ring up customers."

I wanted to scream no, but I couldn't find my voice. I just kept on staring at Jaden. Jim found this situation more awkward than I did and slipped his way out of garage while calling out, "And since ya did such a good job, ya can leave after you're finished with this customer. Tell Chris he still has his job." Then, he closed the door, leaving me alone with this bastard.

That's right…

I hated him. I barely knew him and I hated him. He saved me and made me look like a fool. I'll just act rude and inconsiderate to him. I can get through this and never see his beautiful face – urgh! He's not beautiful! He's a rummy idiot! Dammit, this is gonna be harder than I thought.

My eyes turned into slits as I blew smoke right in his face, "Ya here for your fancy car?"

He let out a little cough and nodded, "Y-Yeah."

I gave him a smug smile, "Tch! Typical, you rich kids get the nice cars from Mommy and Daddy." I turned my back to him as I walked towards the car. The pain in my chest was growing again…

I took another drag on my smoke before bending down to the new rims I put on. "These are new thirty inch rims. You should be good to go. You may need to add more air to them later since I just adjusted the tires." I went on to explain more about the new tires and rims and what store policy was if he wasn't satisfied with the job, then I made another snide comment.

When I was done with my explanation I could tell he had no idea what I just said. Instead, he changed the subject. I saw that coming.

"How are you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"With everything that happened last night. Are you hurt? Did the cops get you?"

I scoffed and dropped my cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with my shoe, "Ya kiddin'? Your little friends only left me with scratches! And the cops, well, ya know us hoods, we deal with them all the time. It's not too hard to escape them."

"I'm really sorry-"

"Ya should be," I snapped. "I didn't need ya savin' me like that. I don't need your damn charity."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"Why didn't ya let them stab me? No skin off your bones, right? One hood dies, that's all the better for yal, right?"

"How could you say that I saved you out of pity?" He asked, a little anger growing in his gentle voice. "I saved you because it's what any normal person with a conscience would do."

"Or maybe you're just clueless."

"No, maybe you are. You're using this whole rich versus poor thing way over the limit."

I started to laugh at him, "Do ya just move here or somethin'?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Ya don't talk like you're from here, for one. And two, if ya lived here as long as I have, ya would know how rare that little act ya pulled is. Rummy trash don't save hoods. That's how it has been since before I was born."

Jaden was silent and I knew right then that I was right.

"So, how long have ya been here?" I asked.

"A few months," he mumbled.

I chuckled and shook my head, "That explains a lot. Let me tell ya somethin' kid. If ya want to stay alive, quit tryin' to play the good guy. It'll just get ya shot. Don't associate with hoods. That's not a warning, either."

I saw him gulp, now aware of how dangerous we really were. I don't know why I was trying to save his ass. Maybe it's just repayment for saving mine.

"Now are ya gonna take your car back or not?"

Jaden nodded and walked to the vehicle. He opened the giant car door and hopped into the leather seat and slammed the door shut. I crossed my arms in jealousy and gave him the evilest glare. He didn't return it, like most rummies would. I heard the engine roar to life and my envy grew. I wanted that car!

I watched as the tinted window rolled down. Jaden stuck half of his body out the open window and smirked down at him. I shot a dirty look at him. That asshole is mocking me!

"So, are you too swelled up in that pride of yours to accept a ride from a rich kid like me?"

His comment caught me off guard. My mouth opened a little in surprise, "Huh?"

"Do you want a ride home?"

He really is clueless. It's like everything I had just said went in one ear and out the other. But, I found kind of cool that he didn't judge me after what all I said. How hoods are dangerous and he should stay away. He was like…he didn't care. It was weird, but it felt nice to have someone not judge you based on class.

"Uhm…well, I, uh…er…"

"Get in the car, _hood_." He said jokingly.

I sighed, "I'm not acceptin' 'cause we're friends, it's 'cause I don't want to run my way home."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

I knew this was wrong and totally ignored the laws that had been set by this town that the rich and the poor were not to associate with each other, but for once, I'm saying "fuck the rules". Getting a ride from someone isn't that bad. Besides, he's new. I wouldn't consider him rummy…yet.

I walked to the passenger's side and jumped right in. As soon as I slammed the door shut Jaden took off out of the garage. Something tells me he just got his license. We were out on the street in no time from how fast Jaden was going. But, I could care less by how fast he was driving. I only cared about the car. I looked around like I was a kid in a candy shop. Every feature of this car was amazing.

What got me the most is that I just said to myself that I hated this kid and now I accepted a ride from him. Man, I don't hold grudges for long. But, I'm still a little irritated by him. I just can't believe I would actually meet up with him again. I mean déjà vu doesn't happen to me that much. I thought it only happened in the movies.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Jaden's voice, "You would think you've never been in a car before."

I felt a little embarrassed that I had been so overly excited about a dumb car. "People down where I live don't have many cars. If they do, they barely run."

"Have you _ever _been in a car?"

"Well, yeah! My dad owned one a while ago."

"So, you just haven't been in a car this nice before?"

"Nope, never."

Jaden shook his head in disbelief, but said nothing.

When he didn't respond I continued to glance around at the interior of the car. Soon the features became boring and my attention turned to the stereo. A smile spread across my face as I reached for the power button, "Let's see what's in your radio, shall we?"

"No, wait!"

Too late. I flipped on the switch and the CD that was in the stereo started playing. When I heard the music I was taken aback.

_A little ditty 'bout Jack & Diane -  
_

_Two American kids growing up in the heart land.  
_

_Jack he's gonna be a football star_

_Diane debutante in the back seat of Jacky's car._

I gave a laugh of surprise. I turned to face Jaden and he was looking away, embarrassed. I smiled, "John Mellencamp? Ya like the oldies?"

"Don't make fun of me. Everyone else does."

"Make fun of ya? Are ya kiddin'? I grew up with this stuff!"

Jaden's head snapped towards me. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah! My dad loved the oldies. I swear he had every Jimmy Buffet record in our basement."

"Same here, only my dad has every Stevie Wonder record."

I thought of another band my Dad and I listened to and snapped my fingers when I finally got one, "Ah! What 'bout Lynyrd Skynyrd?"

Jaden nodded, "Every Christmas."

I started cracking up laughing and clapped my hands, "That's great!"

"We listen to Led Zeppelin on Easter."

"Oh, man, my mom loved Led Zeppelin and Brenda Lee."

Jaden laughed, "My mom, shockingly, likes Pink Floyd."

"My mom said if I ever listen to Pink Floyd, she knows I'm on drugs. _Is anybody out there?_ Yeah, their music is freaky."

Jaden chuckled and smiled at me. This was so…odd. I felt like I knew this kid. Is it possible for two people to click so quickly? The pain in my chest was replaced with this warm feeling and I didn't know whether to push it away or leave it be. I don't know what it is, but Jaden seemed so different. So pure and fun. It worried me that I found this kid interesting.

We went on talking for what felt like hours. The conversations were never forced. They just flew so natural that it scared me. He was so much like me. It was like staring into a reflection of myself. But, I knew that he was weak and fragile and being around someone like me will only get him into trouble. Even if I did think Jaden was…._interesting_. I couldn't possibly hang around him.

Though I wanted to. I wanted to find out what he was thinking about. I wanted to know everything about him. It was so strange. I know I don't like him, I am pissed at him for saving me at the movies, but now I want to get to know him. He just seems so fascinating. God, I'm so confused!

We were in hood territory for a while now and Jaden could see I was tense. I saw Zane at the corner of the street with his brother, Syrus, and Atticus's sister, Alexis. Even though the windows were tinted, I slouched down really low in the seat and covered my head with the GT gas station cap. I could see them enough that they were staring at the car suspiciously. They probably thought they were rummies looking to start trouble. Man, would they be surprised if they found out it was really me.

"What's wrong with you?" Jaden questioned.

"I can't be seen in this car."

"Why?"

I snorted, "Man, ya really don't know how dangerous it is for ya to me seen wit' me, do ya?"

Jaden shrugged, "I guess, but I really don't care."

"Ya should," I mumbled.

"You're a person. I'm not going to treat you like shit because you don't have money. Money means nothing."

"Money is _everything_."

"Well, it shouldn't be!" He said loudly, "I don't care if your dirty poor or filthy rich. People are people and should be treated like equals. I swear this town has the most stereotypical people in it."

"This is just the way life is," I stated. "People judge based on where someone has grown up, what their lifestyle is like, and how much money they got. It's how the world is and it shows how ignorant we are as a society,"

Jaden went quiet. I realized that I just ruined this peaceful and happy-go-lucky ride home. We drove in silence for a few blocks, the only conversation we had was telling him directions to get to my house. I wanted to kick myself for being such an asshole, but what I said was the truth and I'm sticking to it.

Finally, we got to my house and I saw how Jaden couldn't take his eyes off of my small, beat-to-hell house. I smirked as I opened the door, "Ain't want your use to, eh rich boy?"

Jaden slowly shook his head, no conversation intended. I gave a smug laugh and jump out of the car. I held onto the car door, not wanting to shut it.

"Listen, Jaden. You'll come to realize that in this town and every other place in the world, people are cruel and label everyone. I know you're not use to it 'cause your family has money and comes from a good lifestyle, but I don't. We live in two different worlds. So, I'm telling ya, hangin' out with me or any other hood _will _get ya killed and I'm not having that on my conscience."

Jaden's hands clutched the steering wheel. I know he's not use to someone telling him the cold, hard facts, but he has to know what the consequences are in this town before he comes walking in this neighborhood. Innocent people die in this town all the time. It's probably one of the worst towns for homicide rates. If I could keep this boy alive, the one person I know that sees people for who they are, then I will do my best to warn him.

I kicked up the gravel from the street and mumbled, "Thanks for the ride." Then, I slammed the door shut. Jaden hesitated to drive away, but he eventually put the car in drive and was off to his carefree, easy-going life on the other side. And I was stuck here, in this run-down neighborhood having to work every hour of the day to pay for heat and food.

I watched as the black Hummer turned the corner, wishing so badly I was in it to my own leisurely life. How I wanted him to turn around and take me away from here. My chest hurt something fierce to know that Jaden could be my escape from this hellhole.

And I had just let it go.

X-X-X-X-X

Kikuchan: I found this very depressing at the end.

Jesse: wait!! You just said I 'let Jaden go'! Does that mean I'll never see him again?

Kikuchan: Umm, no! Then this wouldn't even be a story!

Jesse: Oh YAY!!!

Kikuchan: See, you _think _you will never see him again, but SUPRENTA! (surprise in Spanish) you will! I just don't know when and where yet.

Jesse: hopefully it doesn't take you _two months _next time!

Kikuchan: I'm sorry!! I was grounded!

Jesse: LIAR!!!

Kikuchan: You're a pinchen bindeigo!

Jesse: what?

Kikuchan: It mean's you're a fucking asshole in Spanish! One of many classes I have F's in! and that's y I was GROUNDED! So SHUT UP! Now please review so I know that you're all alive!


End file.
